


The Pattern Project

by Tea_and_Guillotines



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Gen, Written for a Class, for a project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23395039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_and_Guillotines/pseuds/Tea_and_Guillotines
Summary: Just a little project for school.
Kudos: 1





	The Pattern Project

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all in one shot

_“Even when the dark comes crashing through,_

_When you need a friend to carry you._

_When you’re broken on the ground._

_You will be found~”_

Early in the morning, soft and comforting music blanketed the pastel room as a girl waited for her school service. To pass the time, she took her phone and headphones out and started scrolling through social media after tapping the shuffle option in her personal playlist of songs. Scrolling through the usual social media apps was a normal routine for the girl that she can keep a straight resting face as she went through notifications. But this day a certain post caught her attention. It was a picture of a man’s wrist scribbled with patterns from a black-inked pen. There were curves, hoops, a straight line and a line that resembles the sign of a heart-beat monitor. After the picture is a plain picture of a wrist that looked somewhat similar but with more patterns and words opposite the pattern.

_“The Pattern Project. Draw any pattern on your wrist that apply to you”_

“Interesting,” she whispered to no one “Maybe I’ll try it.” In the midst of memorizing the patterns, a loud honk shattered the calm atmosphere. Taking a piece of paper, the student scribbled each pattern and its meaning as a reference. She planned on drawing on the bus on the way to school. She had one bag hanging on one shoulder and her lunch box on one hand when an imaginary light bulb lit up.

_“Add color to your wrist. It will look better.”_

She trudged to her cabinet and pulled two SpongeBob glitter pens and inserted them in her pocket. Then she raced down the staircase, ignoring the precautions thrown at her of falling down the steps, and ran to the gate after petting the house pet on the head. Excitedly sitting down, she couldn’t wait to start her project. Pulling down her jacket sleeve, she took her black ball pen and started drawing dots vertically. Dot after dot, a pattern was born and she moved down.

After a few minutes, her pale wrist transformed to a canvas of simple patterns with deeper meanings. There were black dots and x’s. There were red slanted lines and different colored doodles with black curves and scribbles to balance the color scheme. Her face lit up as she finished her artwork and kept her cheap art materials away. In comparison to her service mates, she was the only one smiling. It may have been a nuisance to see someone smiling early in the morning on the way to school but with almost everyone asleep, no one was there to spit insults on the student.

As she stepped out of the vehicle, she pulled down her sleeve to hide her drawings. It would’ve been a waste of ink if she was just going to waste ink on something only her eyes would see. But the project wasn’t going to stay hidden for the whole day. She waved and greeted the guard who said “morning” in return and checked for her I.D.

As she walked the long way to her classroom, she reviewed and revised her plan for the morning “Go to classroom-go to friend-possibly comfort her-write on her wrist-say something motivational-give her Toblerone-leave-go back to classroom-cram your Math homework and other home works that were forgotten-continue with the day”

Let’s just say the plan didn’t go as she thought it would but at least the objectives were made. The negativity didn’t stop the smile on the girl as she pranced down the staircase to her classroom. The room may have been tucked away from the other sections, but only one class is enough to get rid of the quiet atmosphere. It was like a scene from the market. The noise was unbearable as students were yelling and running full-speed. Grade 7 students? More like Kindergarten students. But it wasn’t annoying for the girl. She was a social butterfly and one of the noisiest. She got her pad paper and Math book as she answered her supposedly homework a few minutes before homeroom period ends. Then a usual day continues.

She took notes; “listened” to teachers, joked about the lessons and cracked both her knuckles and those of her seatmate from anxiousness and many more. It was a normal school day with the same schedule but there was always something that made the day different. Just like the saying “Thunder doesn’t strike the same place twice”, school days are never the same from the previous ones. Even if the saying has been proven wrong, there are always differences that require focus to be seen. And the differences were easily seen for a person who notices everything.

One thing that made that day different was the very last period: club. The student was a writer in Blue heights, a journalism club, and it was one of the things that she looks forward to at the end of the day besides dismissal. The girl, along with a few club mates, walked the long way from their classrooms to the venue which was on the other side of the school.

In the club meeting, the students were separated according to their positions. All the writers were seated on the right side of the room while the photographers were having a meeting on the left side of the room. The club was in charge for making the school newspapers and the editors were going about collecting articles, photos and following up on those who haven’t submitted yet. They also asked the writers to submit a piece of paper where a list of topics was written which would be used for a poll. The girl submitted a paper with a very simple list written on it

-Memes  
-LGBTQ+  
-K-pop

When the papers were collected, the editor announced that the writers should write a literary article and submit. Collaborations were allowed so the girl immediately went to her group of writer friends and immediately listed down topics and genres to be voted upon. As the girl jotted down topics, her mind went elsewhere. ‘What would be topics that are in these days?’ she asked herself. She reviewed all the events that happen recently and all the gossips she would hear. Being a social butterfly is useful at times. Then it started to become warmer. Stripping off her jacket, she caught a sight of her left wrist which, until that time, was full of drawings from that morning. She slipped in the project on the list before the bell rang indicating dismissal time.

On her journey home, she stared on her wrist with her mind flying off to different places. She weighed the pros and cons of including the project in the newspaper. People would feel proud or confident about their problems, knowing that they are not alone. It would also be like a call for help but it would also lead to more bullying and name-calling. The girl already heard of 5 unreported cases of bullying and she wouldn’t want to increase the numbers. She was never bullied and if she was, it was never harsh that her parents had to be called. In fact, she led quite a happy life with average grades and an ok social life but she couldn’t help but feel that there were a lot of students like her suffering these days from problems that are seemingly impossible to solve.

She knew that not everyone can find coping mechanisms. She was lucky enough to find things for coping like her jacket, her knuckles, her tolerance for pain, her pretend ‘cigarette’ for breathing exercises and her forgetful memory that was somehow helpful in her life. She has adapted skills, memorized quotes and sayings to comfort herself on dark times but it doesn’t help the people around her. Her shining light of hope for a positive world is deteriorating with every passing day as problems rise and obstacles form. But like the story “Pandora’s box” there is hope in the midst of all the horrible things that has set foot in the world.

This could be a sign of hope. A sign that shows people that it’s alright and that they are not alone. They are not weak. Everyone has issues they are dealing with. They will get through this madness and stride victoriously away from the dark corners of their world. That was when her choice was decided upon.

Entering her house, she ran up to her room and changed quickly from her uniform. She opened her laptop in a flash as ideas and inspiration floated around her room. As she waited for it to load, she took out her phone and played the very same song from early in the morning for inspiration and reference. Opening her personal folder, the girl created a new word document in her Blue Heights folder and, with a proud smile, typed her first words in.

**The Pattern Project**


End file.
